La fin de l'histoire
by Quite Silent
Summary: A skeleton has been found in Canada by Brennan's biggest fan at The Centre pour les sciences enviromental du Canada, and he plans on adding to the body count. Third chapters up!
1. FrostBitten Batteries

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters; they belong to Kathy Riechs, Far Field Productions, Fox, and Josephson Entertainment.

She watched silently as the small white flakes danced through shafts of cool sunlight pausing only to land upon any object subject to their touch, the pale prisms reflecting in the clear blue of her orbs. Smiling she counted the flakes that fell into his tousled brown hair, his coffee steaming in the winter's air as he slowly adjusted to the morn's light and sounds. Stepping from the doorway she tapped the small thermometer that seemed to be frozen to the doorframe of the small lodge. Turning at the noise his deep green eyes met her blue, a nod of greeting his only gesture.

"Negative twenty-five degrees Celsius."

"Yeah, I know Bones."

"Good morning to you too." She smiled, her own cup of coffee warming her hands.

"Tell me again Bones, why you brought _me_ along on this one?"

"Goodman requested the FBI's involvement to ensure the safety of the bones."

"Couldn't you have gotten, you know, someone who wouldn't freeze their ass off?"

"I just figured a man like you would be able to take it. Besides it may be a homicide."

He turned to catch the last glimmer of her smile.

"How old of a homicide Bones?"

Looking him in the eyes she did nothing but turn around, the swish of the blanket she held tightly around herself the only sound emitting from her direction as she re-entered the lodge, Booth hot on her heals.

"Bones?"

"Only a few years…"

"Bones…"

"Ok...maybe two hundred? But that's besides the point! A homicide is a homicide."

"No Bones, A two hundred year old skeleton is a research case; some guy stabbed to death by the psycho next door is a homicide."

"Well if I'm correct the definition of Homicide is the killing of one human being by another, and if my suspicions are correct about these bones this human being was killed by another."

Shrugging in disapproval he moved past her, his shoulder's visibly shaking under the blanket.

"You're a piece of work Bones."

Smiling she followed, shrugging her own blanket off of her shoulder's switching her steaming cup from hand to hand as she did so.

"I didn't know you woke up this early Booth, I saw you as the kind of person to sleep in as late as possible."

"Your right, I usually would be asleep right now, but having a frost-bitten ass doesn't exactly make for good sleep."

"Get…" she stared, abruptly stopping, her face contorting in thought, searching for the right words.

"Over it Bones?"

"Over what?"

"No, the phrase you're looking for is 'Get over it'"

"Whatever. Since your up so early we'll leave for the site in an hour, make sure your ready, and you might want to layer your pants so you don't," she made a face. "Freeze your ass off."

Side stepping him she walked past, taking up the forest green blanket that had draped her shoulders only moments before and stepped around a corner and from the room.

Two hours later deep brown boots met cold hard earth with an abrupt crunch as ice cracked beneath them. Bones was first out of the vehicle, hands shoved deep into the pockets of her coat; head up in observance of her surroundings. Joining her Booth huffed heavily into his gloved hands, his breath spreading into the air in small puffs. Before them sat a small rickety shack from which a tall spindly metallic tower sprouted. Flying from the shack a tall gangly looking man with jet black hair and even darker eyes rushed to greet them, his hair scruffy and at least four inches long, framing his face in random tufts and strands. Smiling as warmly as he could, a gesture which could have frozen a polar bear, he shook each of their hands.

"Dr. Brennan, Agent Booth, I'm so glad you could come out to see our bones!" his English was good though he possessed a slight French Canadian accent.

"It's our pleasure Monsieur Dumas." Bones shook his hand vigorously. "I'm very thankful that you called us in for this investigation."

"We only wanted the best." Another cold smile.

"And Agent Booth, Thank you so much for coming all the way up here to protect the bones for us! It's quite noble of you."

Booth nodded his head with a light grunt, his shoulders shaking with a chill.

"You'll have to forgive him Monsieur Dumas; Agent Booth is of a warm blooded Breed." She smiled at him, hers warm enough to melt his and the snow that surrounded them.

He only shrugged and motioned for them to enter the small shack.

Upon entering they took in the surprising largeness of the room that served as one of the many field work and research centers for the Centre pour les sciences enviromental du Canada; The center for environmental sciences in Canada. Sitting down at an old, beat up oak desk he began to type furiously on a laptop that sat nestled amongst thick layers of wire and cord, the room filled with tracking, surveying and information deciphering electronics. Mounted on the walls were flat computer screens two of which showed Mr. Dumas' progress. He began to pull op a GPS program that displayed huge black maps upon which locations were outlined in a lime green, red dots scattered about the mass of black. Then there was a spot of blue.

"The body's there, where the blue dot is. Its about twenty two miles out, about a two day hike if you stop for sleep and camp, but I've arranged for a helicopter to fly the both of you in and out of the location."

His finger stayed smashed onto the body's displayed location.

"The Helicopter should be arriving at any minute now, if you'll wait just a moment..." before he could finish the sentence the shack began to sway, the sound of fan blades beating loudly into the air. The Helicopter had arrived. Stepping from the tiny shack as Monsieur Dumas collected several GPS trackers and maps, Booth and Brennan Moved towards the black helicopter, each of them holding their hoods tight against there heads as freezing wind whipped around them, forced into motion by the helicopter's blades. Each shook the Pilots hand and climbed into the craft, hands shacking and teeth chattering. Behind them, just beyond the small shack Monsieur Dumas stood with his arm elbow deep into an old rusted metal trashcan, his fingers finally finding what they searched for. Pulling the old batteries from the ancient bin he removed a crisp handkerchief from his pocket, wiping the grim from their casing and replacing the batteries in a small GPS devise. Walking towards the air craft he held the tracker out to Dr. Brennan, his smile broad. _Happy travels dear Doctor. _He thought as she took the small devise from his grip.

"I'll meet you at the body's location later this after noon, I have some work to finish up here."

With that he signaled the pilot to take off.

A/n: I hope you enjoyed! There is most definately more to come! Best wishes, Qs


	2. GPS

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters; they belong to Kathy Reichs, Fox, Far Field Productions, and Josephson Entertainment.

The view was magnificent, the deep green of the trees slipping into a foam of white as snow encompassed the entirety of the land. They watched in silence as they passed over the Canadian wilderness, the length of dead or dying trees standing knee-deep in the glaring white. Brennan sat with her face nearly plastered to the cool glass of the helicopter's window, Booth watching contently as child-like excitement flashed across her features, his own heart fluttering with emotions he didn't care to delve into with regards to Bones. Leaning over her shoulder, his left touched her right, his eyes glued into their surroundings. Drawn from the ground that swept along below to her features booth studied her face as slight shadows slipped over her skin as trees reflected onto the helicopter's window.

"Wow…" subconsciously he leaned in closer to the window, his eyes back on the land as his view widened.

"I thought you'd like it." She had turned to look him in the eye as she spoke and as he turned to do the same he found himself face to face with her, their noses barely an inch and a half apart. For a moment nothing moved. Blue stared into green and the sound of the helicopter's blades seemed to die away. His eyes were fixated on hers, his breath becoming stale in his throat. Then he noticed her lips were moving and sound crept back into his conscious. The helicopter blades whirred back to his ear drums, a voice shouting his name above the roar. Bones was speaking to him.

"Booth, you're smashing my arm."

"Huh?" he looked at the space between them, or rather what space was left between them, his wide shoulder pinning her smaller one against the helicopter's door, her arm smashed against it.

"Oh…" He leaned back, releasing her arm.

Just as he began to apologize the pilot turned to the, his glasses dark and headset bulky.

"The landing area is about two miles away; you can see it from here. I'll circle around once so it's easier to take off after I drop you two off."

They nodded in unison, their eyes scanning the horizon for the pad.

Snow flakes flitted past their noses and towards the ground as the helicopter's blades began to twist once more. They stood huddled, their eyes following the helicopter's ascent as it lifted into the deep grey winter sky. The pilot planned to fly back with M. Dumas in about two hours. He would then stay on the landing pad until his services were called for again.

"Let's get to it, we have about a half hour walk from here to the body site." her voice barely sounded over the wind and fading helicopter.

He nodded as he walked past her and towards a small trail leading from the landing area. Pulling the GPS from her pack Brennan studied the light signal, typing in the coordinates written on the map she had received by mail from M. Dumas several weeks earlier.

"Uh Booth." She looked up to find his back to her, his hands waiving in speech. God, Did he ever listen?

"Booth!" this caught his attention and he finally turned around, surprised to not find her following on his heals.

"What are you doing Bones?" he enquired.

"You're going the wrong way Booth."

"It's the only trail that leads from here Bones, how could it be the wrong way?"

"The GPS says otherwise Booth." She raised an eyebrow to the tracker, turning in the direction. She could hear him turn to her as he spoke, his voice becoming louder as it aimed towards her.

"Well Bones, maybe the GPS is wrong."

She turned abruptly to look him in the face, calmly she began to speak.

"I understand your alpha male view of the situation Booth. I get that you, as a male, feel that your sense of instinctual direction is superior to that of a machine, however," before she could continue his hand clamped down over her lips, his skin salty and cold against her own.

Immediately she began to protest, his grip only becoming heavier over her lips the more she tried to speak.

"Bones," he called over her muffled aggravation. "Bones, I'll make you a deal…"

The muffled protests abruptly halted.

"But, you can only respond by nodding or shaking your head."

An eyebrow rose defiantly.

"Ok listen in Bones. Are you listening?"

A muffled "yes" began to sound, his eyes growing wide.

He watched hers roll as she began to nod.

"Ok good. Here's the deal Bones. I'll take my hand off of your mouth and try not to complain on the walk to the site if, and ONLY if you swear not to pull your analytical B.S. on me."

Her expression became pensive, her brows furrowing slightly. Looking him in the eyes once more she raised her hand as though she was his student.

Starting at her in disbelief for a moment he spread his fingers allowing her the short term ability to speak.

"For what amount of time?" she asked, his eye catching the slight movement of her opposite hand as she raised it ear her side, ready to pounce.

Just as she moved his left hand caught her right shoulder, turning her around and bending her forewords, his right hand staying planted on her mouth the entire time. Now holding her in a headlock he smashed his knuckles into her, twisting them in a noogie.

"OW! Okay! Okay! I won't express anything analytical pertaining to your need to feel male dominance."

"And?" he asked, his knuckles rubbing harder.

"Or anything else analytical?!" she questioned.

Releasing her he smiled. "Exactly!" he beamed at her, her brown hair tousled and knotted.

"You're a sick Man Booth." She returned his smile. "Let's get going I'm anx-" she stopped her sentence before it came to a whole, her shoulders turning as she began to walk towards the GPS indicated location.

"You're what, Bones? Were you going to say anxious? The great Forensic Anthropologist anxious?" he smiled as he caught up with her, her lips pursed into a fake frown to keep from smiling.

"So what if I'm a little…" she paused looking for the right word "excited." She finished, the tiniest bit of a grin spreading over her lips.

"About a dead body?" he raised an eyebrow to her as they entered the thick woods.

"It's not a dead body; it's an anthropologically historical finding."

"Sure, if that's what you want to call it Bones."

"Whatever." her smile had yet to fade, her eyes locked on the GPS' small screen.

"It says were about two miles away from the site."

Removing the thick ring of keys from the pilots pocket he stared down at the lifeless body for a moment. He wondered what she would think of the blue, chilling skin of the man's forehead against the deep, liquid red of his blood. He wondered how she would describe the image in one of her books. The heroin would have known what he had just done, would have had some suspicion by now, but he feared she had no clue, and the end of the story was getting nearer and nearer. It would play out like no author would ever want his length of heroic adventure to go on, to come to a climactic end, but one in which the heroin would not make it through the battle for justice, but die in the face of evil. With this thought he only smiled, he was going to kill the heroin before justice could be served, a delight beyond no other.

Marching on ahead of her partner Bones stepped through crunching snow, her boots covered in the white powder as she trekked on in search of the victim, the heat of her partner's eyes on her back almost keeping her warm in the cool winter weather. Booth followed her, his eyes tracing her body, amazed at how elegantly and smoothly she could climb through snow and trees, her form long but stealthy. Snow flakes lightly fell into her dark auburn-brown hair.

Losing interest in the surroundings around him he watched her hair, his eyes taking in the white specks.

"Booth! Right here!" her voice brought him out of his trance. She was leaning over a small pile of what looked like dying leaves, the snow moved away by her own gloved hands. The woods had become thick, a trait he hadn't noticed till now, the snow less abundant on the ground, but stuck on the limbs of trees. Checking his watch it had taken then about an hour and twenty minutes to make the two mile trek, a bad time due to the amount of snow and terrain.

"Booth I'm going to need several of the large evidence bags." She motioned to him, pulling gloves from her own pack. "Young female, between the ages of fifteen and eighteen, Caucasoid. Her left tibia is smashed and…" she leaned in further to examine a small triangularly shaped hole in the right side of the skull.

Booth paid no attention to what his partner was saying, the glint of something shiny catching his trained eyes. It was about ten feet above them in one of the many tree's surrounding them. Dismissing it as snow reflecting the sun's light he turned back to Bones, who now stood, angered her hands on her hips.

"Booth, I need those evidence bags," she motioned towards the remains, the back of her hand a few inches from the trunk of a large tree, palm open. "We need to remove the-"

A loud twanging filled the silent air, then a sickening crack and thump, a brief yelp sounding as a climax to the symphony. Eyes wide he stared at her, blood dripping down the tree's dark brown bark, a hunter's arrow sticking straight from the tree, through her torn flesh, the latex glove that once completely covered her hand and into the cool air. She grasped the wrist of her injured hand, eyes reddening with the threat of unshed tears, silent _oh my god's_ slipping from between her lips. Rushing to her, his eyes darting back to where he had seen the flash of light reflect off of the arrow that had struck her hand, he tired to aide her.

"Booth, go hide or something" was all she could manage between gasps. He didn't pay attention and put his hand on hers, his fingers making a pressured circle around the arrow, his other hand taking hold of the arrow's aluminum shaft.

"No, Booth, Don't do that! You can't pull it out like that; you'll only injure my hand further, just shoot the bastard or give me your gun and I will." A defiant smile crossed her lips for the briefest of moments.

Following her orders he took his position directly in front of her, his trained eyes watching the tree line, waiting for another glimpse of light on an arrow's tip. Seeing none he waited for as long as he could stand it, Bones' heavy, painful breathing behind him too shallow to ignore. Before he could turn he heard her voice.

"Booth, if we don't get the arrow out soon I'm going to lose a lot of blood."

Turning around he looked her dead in the eyes, her face a pale shade of off white, the tree red with her blood and her knuckles white as she gripped the wrist of her injured hand.

"How do we get it out with out hurting you more?"

"You have to brake or cut the arrow's shaft so we can pull it away from my hand. There's a pocket knife in my pack."

As he began to turn her eyes caught a flicker of silver along the tree line.

"Booth!" she called, his form turning back to her for an instant before the twang sounded and her partner fell to the ground before her, the bright orange and yellow feathers of a hunters arrow protruding nearly a foot from the back of his right shoulder.

"Booth!" she screamed this time, her uninjured hand taking hold of the arrow in her own body. Closing her eyes she took in a deep breath and pulled. In an instant a pain so strikingly bold sent her knees wobbling as the arrow slid backwards through the wound, tearing new muscle and cracking new bone.

_Shit. _He hadn't hit her partner hard enough, his muscles tired from the first shot. Though his aim was usually fantastic, a trait he had expressed merely moments before by shooting the heroin's palm, had faltered, his strength gone, perhaps not from the first shot but from pure excitement. Now he watched her as she rushed to her partner's aide, her own pain forgotten in an instant. Her selflessness only served as a trigger for his anger. She should be in pain, in searing, blood curdling pain, but the bitch wasn't. Something had to be done about that. Tensing for a moment the question of how the GPS had made it this far crossed his mind, a slight thud sounding as he jumped from the tree's branch.

Ignoring her hand she ran to Booth, her heart pounding so loudly she thought the Dumas would be able to hear it all the way back at the field lab. As though on cue their host appeared, his face glistening and pale, his appearance like that of a jogger, though his approach had been silent.

Moments passed between them, an awkward, heavy silence in which the realization of knowing came to each. It hung for a moment between them, each of their bodies slowly tensing. She felt like a caged animal. She was in the middle of the Yellowknife woods, with a man who had just shot her partner through the chest with a bow and arrow.

Taking a step forward he moved closer to her, her body rising off of the ground.

"Where'd you put the bow Dumas?"

"What? Is your partner okay?" he almost smiled, his eyes teasing her as he took another step forward.

"Okay. My Partner's doing just fine, but I think he might need some medical attention." She let a loose smile drift over her lips, her insides rumbling as she allowed herself to play his game.

"I have a kit at a station just a few miles that way." He kept his eyes locked on hers. "I just came from there…we can go get it if you want."

A/n: It's sort of a cliffy, but not really, sorry it took so long.


	3. Log cabin

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters; they belong to Kathy Reichs, Fox, Far Field Productions and Josephson Entertainment.

It howled and stung, whistling in and out of the trees as it sped up, the wind whipping them both as they stood, in silence, his dark eyes tracing the curves of her cheeks and jaw. They traced the soft lines, slowly at first, then with almost violent ferocity. He imagines his hands tracing them just the same, a knife in her thin abdomen and twisting as he let himself touch her. God it felt good.

She studied him for a moment; he was looking at her, but not at her eyes, he seemed to be distracted, day dreaming almost. She knew there was not much she could do; Leave Booth and follow the man who had just tried to kill them both, alone, but with the hopes of finding a means of communication or health supplies. Or, risk letting Booth die by leaving the woods to get help, or try to drag him out of the woods by herself, risking further injury to them both. Either way she had to deal with Dumas.

It was without question. She would leave Booth and follow Dumas' lead.

"How long is the walk?" she tipped her head slightly, spreading her lips slightly and furrowing her brows then looking towards Booth, a not so feigned but played up concern. She looked back to find him smiling.

"About two miles, not far."

"Will he be safe here?"

Something within her eyes flashed and he knew. She wasn't going to trust him, but she was going to risk her safety by going with what she thought was a mad man in order to save her partner. She couldn't have written it better, and it was exactly what he had planned.

"I'm sure he'll be fine, we can bring him if you'd like, but we could potentially cause more damage to him than has already been caused."

"Okay, Then just the two of us will go." He watched as she slowly unzipped her heavy over coat, and then removed it.

"You may need that."

"He needs it more." She set it across her partner, tucking the yellow edges of its fabric under his calves and thighs.

"Ready?" he asked as she straightened again, her shoulders rigid in the cold and what he imagined was fear.

"Ready." She repeated.

An hour and a half later they were still walking, still in a suspicious silence and still without medical supplies. Stopping she let him walk ahead of her a few steps, then he too stopped.

"I'm done." She let the words slip between chattering lips, her arms wrapped around her torso and her shoulders jolting in the cold.

"It's just over this ridge; I give you my word _Cherie_."

"We have walked a great deal more than two miles Dumas, How am I supposed to trust that there is really a station just over there?" the sweatshirt and two long sleeved shirts she was wearing were not cutting it. She could barely handle the cold now and could feel her hands numbing within her gloves.

"What if I walk there, and bring you back a medical kit? Then will you believe me?"

She eyed him cautiously but nodded, watching as he began to walk into the distance, then disappeared as she assumed he crossed over the ridge.

Half an hour passed and he had yet to return. She now could not feel her face, hands, feet or legs. The cold began to cloud her thoughts and slow them down. She had thought she saw him come over the ridge twice already but she had imagined it each time. Standing now she thought she saw him again, but once again dismissed it, her mind was tired and frozen and she just wanted to head back. Exposure to the elements this long was probably killing Booth more swiftly than the arrow sticking from his chest and she refused to let that happen. Turning away from the ridge she began to walk, her legs stiff, frigid logs.

"Temperance?" she heard her name in the distance behind her, turning quickly she found Dumas walking towards her, a huge box in his hands.

"You're leaving so soon?"

"What took you so long?"

"I couldn't find the kit, in fact there's even more back at the station, a stretcher. I need you to come back with me to get it, and I found a coat for you." He set the box down and pulled out a huge men's winter coat. She took it with an almost desperate speed, wrapping it around herself with a soft smile.

He had won her trust. Everything was working. He hadn't expected it to be this easy, but knew everyone had their breaking point and he smiled back, knowing he had found hers.

"Lets go." She said, her breath puffing within the fur lined hood of the huge jacket.

Nodding, he turned, leaving the box. "We'll pick it up on the way back, no use in caring it all the way back."

Halfway there she stopped suddenly.

"What about the helicopter?" she had nearly forgotten how they had gotten out there in the first place.

"Pardon?" he turned and looked at her. The coat had seemed to brighten her up. That wasn't going to help. "Oh! I radioed him, we need to get back to your partner, then we have to take him back a few miles, the helicopter will meet us there."

She stared at him unbelieving, but quickly continued walking.

He let out a held breath and hoped she would keep believing him. Soon a dark, log-cabin looking home came into view, its chimney leaking smoke into the cold air and leaving it smelling like warmth and coal. She breathed in deeply, inhaling the scent as they neared the home.

"It's just inside the foyer; I brought it up when I left the first time."

"Why can't the helicopter just meet us here?" she asked, motioning to the empty land that surrounded the house.

"Hmmm." He hadn't had time to think of or consider an answer for this question. Turning he found her stare blazing and hardened.

"I thin I'd like to head back now." Something moved off to her right and her head quickly snapped in that direction.

_Perfect._ Running at her he had her pinned against the snowy ground in seconds, her small body struggling beneath his. She kicked and screamed but couldn't seem to have an effect on him. She decided it was from the cold that had stricken her body for so long; too long. She felt her lungs cave as his knee met her chest, and then her hands sop moving as he took them into his own, crushing them with the force of his long fingers. Until then she had forgotten about the hole that ran through her hand.

She screamed, biting her lip to repress it. Reaching up he put on hand on her jaw, squeezing as to open her mouth.

"Let it come out." He demanded, prying her mouth open to catch the last of her scream. "It's only natural, Temperance, a Heroin under attack should scream, shouldn't she?"

He thrust his thumb against the wound, her screams ringing out once more.

"That's a girl." He suddenly ripped her up from the ground, a morbid snow angel left in her place. Just as suddenly she was smashing into him, her shoulder meeting his gut and knocking him onto the ground. A flash of silver glinted in the air and in moments Booth's gun was removed from the back of her snow pants and into rested solidly in her hands.

She watched as a wry smile cracked his lips.

"In my book Temperance dies." He stood and charged her. Before he could take two steps the metal thrust itself into his body at an ungodly speed. The bullets tore through his body as though he had been made of putty.

The emptied gun slid from her fingers and she ran past the body, towards the cabin. Reaching its door she opened it easily, finding the entire space empty. The door opened into a large foyer, filled with absolutely nothing, at the end of which was a huge fireplace, coals burning within its mouth glowing bright orange. The walls were a stark white and the windows sat open, no curtains hiding their view. At the back of the room was a single door, to which she quickly walked and opened. It revealed a room that's walls made up for those in the previous room. These walls were covered in what looked to be torn-out pages from books and pictures. Near the bed lay a huge stack of books, most of which were copies of each other. All were her books. There were copies and copies of each of her books; she assumed a total close to fifty. Half of them missed huge chunks of pages which she knew he had plastered on the walls of his bedroom. Walking to a wall she read one of the pages. It was one on which she had written Kathy's struggle with her attacker. The page next to it was a sequence from another book, this time it was the section in which Kathy had been kidnapped by a different attacker. The next page read as an intimate scene between Kathy and her love interest, but their names had been scribbled off, replaced with her own and Dumas'. Plastered beside this page was a photo of her she did not recognize. She sat at a table, laughing, and her eyes where nearly straight on the camera. She immediately remembered the day. She had gone out for lunch with Angela three months earlier; they had eaten outside of the diner on a bench.

She then noticed another photo, this one further up on the wall. This photo she recognized and had not seen in years. It was a younger her, maybe three or four years ago, it was her first book signing and the photo had been released in a local D.C. newspaper the day after the event. She jogged her memory and tried to remember if Dumas had been at the signing but came up with nothing. Finally she found a third picture, this one on the opposite wall, that sincerely scared her. It was a picture of her and Russ. From about 16 years ago. It was before her parents left. In the picture a beaming Russ hugged his little sister as she struggled to get away, laughing. She had lost the picture almost seven years ago; it had been in her apartment, in a dark brown picture frame sitting on her bedroom bookshelf. One day she had come home to find the entire frame missing. She had blown it off, deciding she must not have remembered putting it somewhere else, but she had never found it again.

Pulling the picture from the wall she searched the room for a radio or phone, finding neither. Slowly she left the room, then the house. She needed to get back to Booth, needed to save them both before it was too late and before they both faced a fate similar to that of the woman they had discovered beneath the snow.

A/n: Sorry it's been forever! Hope you enjoyed it and I will try to update again soon!


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